“FATE CHANGED FASTER THAN THE DEATH OF LIGHT. NO STAIN ON THE MOON WAS LAID, STILL THE SUNKEN STARS CAME AND FROM THEIR CROWN CONSTELLATIONS WAKED. HORIZONLESS SKIES BLED DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS AND CLAWS OF TREACHERY EMERGED FROM HELL TO A WORLD CYNICAL FOR DESTRUCTION. THUS THEY FELL ONWARD TO HEAVEN AND HELL’S DECADENCE...

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WELCOME TO DECADENCE, we are an original fantasy vice and virtue role play with elements of ideology and horror. We were created in November 2011 and since then have grown into a wonderfully dedicated community. Decadence is a Role Play built for your every day enjoyment seeking RPers, elite writers and even beginners. With our vividly original lore there is always a plot important role open, vast room for originality, quality character creation and not to mention plot twists galore. We urge you to join and become apart of our twisted fairytale.

The hammer struck mercilessly, sparks littered the air like a million fireflies. Calloused fingers were wrung around the handle, as the hammer was brought down yet again. Orange metal spat out a forked tongue of flames like a dragon being subdued. With a planted foot the bellows blew cool air on the coals—keeping the flames alive in the furnace. Tongs were used to set the metal back into the flames, turning it over to get an even keel on all sides. Narrowed grey eyes peered earnestly forward from behind makeshift goggles.

This was his element, and soon something beautiful was about to be born. That’s at least how he always viewed a new project. Sweat dripped down from his shoulders, staining the white cotton tank-top. How long was he at it? Minutes? Hours? Probably the latter because the sun had started to come up. Adham would be up soon, and when he saw the dozen work orders completed what would he say?

“You are a fool child!” Destin put on his best Adham impression, wagging a finger at the furnace “Rest is important, especially since you are trying out for knighthood today.” Drawing on the ‘r’s just a touch the accent was thick. Just as he finished the mock tirade the tongs grew too hot, and caused him to jerk backward violently. Heated metal of a would-be sword impaled itself into one of the posts in the workshop.

Shoulders rolled forward sighing heavily as he walked over to pull it free. Nerves buzzed with excitement and anxiety—there wasn’t anything to be calm about. The first day of his true life starts today.

It was only a matter of a time before he was dressed out of his apron, and all clothes that made up the smithing ensemble. Switching to the training leather that he picked up from a vendor, and his own sword; Volstagg. Ikol drifted down to his shoulder, doing his part in helping the poor lad relax. ”Just remember to keep your strides short, and compact swings. We have been watching knights practice for far too long, and your body should be accustomed to the weight of a blade. Especially with all that developed muscle—Adham would be proud.”

Destin nodded timidly, smiling as he slung the scabbard over his shoulder. “You do have a point.” The first few words of the day were spoken just as he reached the Superbia training ground for the military. A sigh of excitement more so than nervousness made him smile—Destin’s right hand started to spasm but for the moment he ignored it.

"If you can cheat, so can I. I won't let you beat me unfairly — I'll beat you unfairly first.”

It had been a tiresome journey from the verdant lands of Virtus to the... less than splendorous kingdom of Vitium. Perhaps it was the change in climate, but Percival felt increasingly uncomfortable in his own armor while in this foreign terrain. Knights of Virtus made trips to the dark kingdom sparingly, as tensions tended to grow between those of opposing temperaments. It was a wonder why the Virtian House of Seven sent a knight such as young Percival on such a task. He had no diplomatic experience, and no desire to go to the dark crags of Vitium. It was troublesome to be sure.

"Where... Where is this place..."

Percival grumbled, recalling the directions which were so vaguely described to him upon his unfortunate assignment. "Go to the kingdom of Vitium in the capitol city. You must travel to the Citadels of Seven and seek audience with the royalty of Superbia. They have requested a consultant to judge their new knight recruits." Yeah. Because the kingdom of pride will listen to the words of a humble knight such as Percival. Even he knew this was just a triviality to keep diplomatic relations between the two houses calm.

"It matters little. His majesty's orders are absolute."

The Knight of Temperantia would not be swayed from his mission by uncomfortable weather and a sense of pointlessness. What made him a good knight was following orders unquestionably. Perhaps that's why he was sent. Even Superbian knights would require humility and moderation in order to become successful in their careers. It was a requirement to swearing loyalty to ones king. What the king or queen says goes, no ifs ands or buts to it. For their sake, these recruits had best learn that quick.

In due time, Percival found his destination among the training facilities of Superbias army camp. There were green recruits everywhere, some more fit to common soldiering than actual knighthood. The blonde wondered how many egos he would have to deflate by the end of the day. Oh how he wished to finish his job quickly and return home. As gruff as he seemed to them, he missed the company of his friends already.

"Oh! My apologies..!"

Percival could feel a sudden bump to his left as he walked into the path of another figure. He turned his head to get a better look at them, finding them to be a young man, still in his mid teens. One of the hopefuls perhaps? Percivals expression lightened as he gave the boy a firm nod. He looked capable enough, with strong arms and the look of someone who could handle themselves in battle.

"I LIVE FOR HER WHIMS, DIE FOR HER LOVE. SHE IS THE HOLDER OF MY SINS. THE KEEPER OF MY SOUL."

The morning began as it always did for the raven haired male. Waking up in the silk sheets with a warm body wrapped around his body. Lifting his slim yet strong fingers he touched upon the sun kissed skin he came to adore. Trailing a nail lightly down the skin he wished to kiss the male stared at the top of her flamed kissed hair. Anger was already stirring deep within the center of his chest at the thought of leaving her in the hands of another. He was her knight no one else. Just the thought of other fingers, even that of female, touching her skin to rose her from her sleep. Picking up the rag to wash away the sin they had wrapped themselves the night before. It was his job an no one else should have the pleasure of touching her. Yet he would not be able to spend his time pampering her this fine day. As head knight of Superbia he had been assigned to watch over the knighthood admissions. All the while he would be away from his beautiful flamed queen.

Crimson eyes narrowed over the thought once more as he pushed himself upwards on the bed. Fingers wrapping gently around her own body to position her away from him. Not to wake her fragile body the male slipped from the bed, drifting away from the warmth her body seeped with. Lolis, a large black jaguar awoke when his Master slipped from the bed. Feline eyes watching as the male moved away from his Mistress to dress for the day. It was not like him to move from his Queen without certain reason, after all the male was born for the female that lay upon the bed. The large cat stretched its black tainted paws forward before pushing himself away from the large lion Rory. You are rising to wake the Mistress? his voice filled with wonder as Ace slipped into his butler like clothing.

Crimson eyes came to clash with yellow eyes as they stared at one other. "No. That will not be my duty today it seems" acid dipped his every word as he buttoned up the remaining buttons upon his vest. Reaching down to grab a hold of the black jacket he slipped himself into. Lolis saw from years of being with the male that his body was stiff, scenting the anger that radiated from his body. He was deadly when he was pulled from the female. Like a beast wrapped tightly within a collar he had no owner minus one. Yet at times even she could not control the beast that lay underneath his pale skin. The body of the male stilled as he took a deep breath to calm himself, allowed for the anger to be buried under the pits of abyss for this moment. Stepping away after he was fully dressed the male came to stand once more by the bed leaning down he pressed his lips gently upon her forehead before pulling back.

Lifting himself away from her body the male made his way from the room. Lolis just a foot away from him. As the door closed with a soft click he turned to stare down the hallway as the anger once more began to claw into his flesh. He would have to speak to the maid in charge of his mistress before he even left her in their care. With that small mission wrapped tightly within his mind the male set off down the hallway to find such maid. Coming across a small timid looking female, crimson eyes locked upon her face as she came to a sudden halt in surprise. S-sir her voice quivered on the word as he stared at her with unfeeling eyes. "I have left a list of things that need to be accomplished on the table within Her Majesty's chamber. Do not wake her before you complete that list. Else you anger her more than she already will be. So I wisely suggest that you enter the chamber with the mind set of a mouse. If for any reason I hear that she is unhappy with your service take heed I will make sure your punishment will be harsh. I have nothing more to say to you, begone" his hand lifted upward to wave away the creature before him.

As her hurried footsteps carried her away from the beast he turned his mind on the task given to him. Rather mean do you not think Ace? the jaguar spoke but the male chose to ignore his very words. No need to answer the beast when he alone was fighting for some sort of control as it was. Spinning on his black heel he turned his body around to carry him to the training ground to observe the specks of dirt who wished to join their ranks. Reaching the large enclosed area he came to stand beside other Knights such as himself, unlike the others. Ace did not have a uniform to wear, no armor. Nothing. The only thing that made him to be a threat was two large thin swords strapped to his body.

The eyes of the other knights turned to stare at the crimson demon before them. Inclining their heads in a sign of respect that always was given yet never truly desired to give. Stepping forward he stared at the many figures before him. "Listen up, I do not care to be here. as far as I am concerned none of you can be knights of Superbia. But my Mistress has ordered me to watch over the training process. As such, you will pair of into a pair of two. When I summon your names you step into the main area of the training field. There you shall fight it out, the loser goes home. The winner moves forward to fight the others. If you are all to weak to be here then I suggest you not waste my time nor waste the time of my mistress. Any questions? Complaints? Not that I can what you all have to complain about."

The nervous smile, and crazed look in his eye were all ephemeral, fading away just as quickly when he was bumped. In his chest he thought it would possibly be best to act tough the first day; until he looked into the seasoned knights eyes. Ikol fluttered to Destin’s should as he cocked his head to the side ”Seems that the Virtus are sending an envoy…Don’t you sense it?” If there was ever a time Ikol would have cackled, it would have been now—though they were both stunned. As the Knight apologized he meekly nodded, and proceeded forward. ’Good luck, you will need it.’ Words resonated through him like an echo, the fear was starting to come back. Maybe this task would be too much for him, or possibly he will just fail early and at least pretend he gave it a shot.

A feeling only spurred on further by the terror that stood before all the new recruits, Ace Superbia, more terrifying to Destin presently than an Archdemon. For all intents and purposes Ace was currently as close as it was going to get; at least for the moment.

Cooler heads will prevail. A hand clasped down on his shoulder, as he was selected it seemed as easy prey for a young lad about his age, definitely taller. “We can be partners” he seemed charismatic, but at the same time there was the undertone of sadism that lingered behind his words. This is how it always went though, being picked on early. “My name is Eric, and yours?”

“Destin..” Visibly shying away from the hand on his shoulder—it made his skin crawl to have someone in his bubble so close. There was no preparation, nor a discussion of rules as Eric’s sword came down on him without hesitation. Destin pulled his scabbard up and over his shoulder to parry. Bending at the knees reflexively to absorb the brunt of the strike. “Don’t you think you should have at least given some warning?” Spitting words out from behind clenched teeth.

“In a real situation like this there won’t be any.” Which was a good point “Besides it’s all in good fun.” Eric flicked his wrist to the side and caught Destin’s cheek with the flat of the blade. Leaving a small cut where the edge dragged off. If this was good fun he didn’t want to see what the latter would be. Looking out the corner of his eye he saw the daemon flapping his wings casually, purely observing.

What he would give to have it easy for once. Completely drawing his sword he stood at what could be a ready stance. Hands trembling causing the swords tip to bob to the left and right, occasionally dipping. He just had to bide his time until he was called to the front, then to fail purposely.

"If you can cheat, so can I. I won't let you beat me unfairly — I'll beat you unfairly first.”

In the realm of Rievoulex, there were many people who held the title of knight, each one with their own individual code of conduct among their peers and their superiors. Naturally some conflicted with others in trivial ways, but the end result was loyalty to ones liege lord. However, there were some cases in which two knights ideologies polarized one another, and conflict would be born. The moment Ace of Superbia, a famous knight even among those in Virtus, stepped into the training grounds, Percival felt that conflict within.

Emerald blue hues fell upon the dog of queen Superbia, clad in black and crimson and carrying himself with such swagger that you couldn't help but feel annoyed. Perhaps it was his own disposition though, and this was a common thing in Superbia. Whatever the situation was, Percival wanted to finish it quickly and avoid dealing with this man as much as possible.

Once Ace finished his tongue lashing of the recruits, Percival approached him and gave a polite bow as was customary. He met the black knights crimson eyes with his own, betraying no emotion, no weakness to the dark servant of Superbia. He couldn't afford to sully the reputation of Temperantia with any mistake. In the face of any danger, the house of temperance would stand tall and strong.

"Greetings, sir knight. I am Percival of clan Ruir, envoy to his majesty the king of Temperantia. I've been requested to watch over the training of your kingdoms recruits as per a mutual agreement between both kingdoms."

Business, strictly business. That's all this was and he prayed that Ace would share in that sentiment. Neither of them wanted to be here for long after all, and the quicker they finished up this little ordeal, the quicker they could all go home. After exchanging pleasantries, the knight took his place among the judges and proceeded to spectate the recruits matches. Tournament based evaluation was harsh, but effective when one was looking for a select few.

The most interesting prospect of these trials was coincidentally the young lad he had bumped into before the try-outs. Everyone else blended with the background, but this young lad, Destin, he believed, was a character indeed. Percival kept his eye out for the boy, watching his fights and secretly rooting for the boy to advance.

"I LIVE FOR HER WHIMS, DIE FOR HER LOVE. SHE IS THE HOLDER OF MY SINS. THE KEEPER OF MY SOUL."

He was wishing that this time in this hell hole would end and he could disappear from these specks. Ace felt like they were tainting him with something unfit to be near his mistress. Ah, it seemed he will have to bath before he would allow himself to go near the flamed hair beauty. No reason that she should be tainted along with him, it was only fair that he took the burden from his mistress. Crossing his arms over his chest he stayed quiet as the other knights took control. Calling the names of people who wished to fight for the title of knight.

But it seemed that his time away from his Queen would hold many surprises, and disappoints. Mainly the one that had decided it was best to approach him when he was already in a horrible mood. Crimson tainted eyes turned to stare at the Virtue knight who dared step into the kingdom he protected. Just being near them was enough to set his teeth on edge. Always with their good nature, always helping one other. It was sicking to the point were he felt the urge to puke every time he heard them speak. So when Percival approached him and bowed the male could only stare at him.

His eyes showed no emotional as he stared at him, ah so they were playing that game were they? Ace could feel his lips start to move in a mocking salute to him. Well it was not like he truly cared one way or another if the man decided to spend his time within Superbia. It was after all a beautiful kingdom, but he rather did care if was to beside him that he spent his time. "Have you now?" his voice tinted with the boredom that he felt when speaking to him. "I could care less why a Temperantia is within my Queens walls. Do what you want, I care not. Just do me a favor and keep yourself away from my presence. I do not wish for your nature to rub upon me." clearly dismissing him like a bug on the wall.

Crimson eyes turned back to the men who dared wish themselves Superbia Knights. As his eyes scanned the weak creatures with a slight disdain upon his features. Ah it seemed that none of them had caught his eyes as of yet which was a bad thing coming from him. After all he was the one who would chose the Superbia Knights to be. A sigh slipped his lips before the next names were called. Eric and Destin to the front the voice of a lesser knight rang throughout the area.

Eric didn’t quite seem to let up, his strikes held the vigor of everything that Destin came to distain. Brutish, unrefined, and filled with malice. It was as if the iron cried out to him as it struck against the sturdy Volstagg. There was a bit of remorse held in a special place in Destin’s heart—as his grip firmed against the hilt of the sword. Tremors of fear still resonated through his body, coupled with an unsureness that seemed to make him hesitant. Which is probably why blood had been drawn on his cheek—a slash dodged by a hairs breadth.

However, there was an animal that called out to him, it was faint but ever present; a cry for battle. Timing was all but certain, and the weight of the slash was nothing his arms couldn’t handle. Eventually each swing was matched with a parry, exposing Eric’s guard more and more. Ultimately making the frenzied state worse. “You’re up.” Ikol called to him, and in that second his guard was weak and he took a light blow to the shoulder. Destin winced, taking a few steps backward and his sword dropped—it was more than obvious the slash was premeditated, especially since Eric was armed with ferocity.

“To have a weakling as a knight this kingdom would surely be in danger.” Harsh words spat out as the larger challenger sauntered away to the front. It seemed that most were already done with the test, and this had been the final bout on the docket. Thick blood caked against the shoulder strap of his leather armor, and there was a ping of anger that made his gaze stern. Though not blinded by it. As they took their place in the middle, nothing really mattered, not Ace or Percivil; nor his other comrades. All that stood before him was Eric.

Blades whizzed through the air precluded by the resounding clash of metal. A dead lock, where Destin slid his blade forward—catching the hand guard of his opponent only to be struck in the face. Reeling backward shocked by the blow and the blood that tricked down to his lip. Slowly his state became more disheveled and the thoughts of feigning failure were moot. With one hand he held his sword forward, it felt light in his hands as he loosed the grip so the tip dipped down. Eric charged, swinging hard from the right, to put pressure on his damaged left shoulder—the block was inevitable. A sharp jolt of pain sprang up through the back of his shoulder, and it caused him to partially crumble. It was followed up with a pommel blow to the still wounded area.

Destin grit his teeth grunting visibly showing his pain. ’He is out to kill me..’ The though sparked fear, far more fear as he wasn’t ready to die—nor was he prepared to give up on his dream; he had been doing so well. Letting go of his sword, just as Eric was about to raise his sword for a slash, and Destin stopped thinking. As the sword fell he rose, using the square pommel of the short-sword to bounce the blade back. Torquing his hips to lead into a diagonal slash from shoulder to hip digging deep moving purely on reflex. Blood sprayed against his face, and the horror of his action set in. Tears welled in his eyes and he vomited. Sword dug into the ground as it was used for balance but the silence is what killed him the most. That and the blank stare of someone that could have been called friend in the loosest of terms.

"If you can cheat, so can I. I won't let you beat me unfairly — I'll beat you unfairly first.”